But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand.
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