Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. Unless—would he hide from them as he had hidden from her? It was a big house, he said. "No offence," returned Jonathan.
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