That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. “I mean to go to prison directly the session is over,” said Miss Klegg. “You look great, Lucy. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. After all, that was life. Father— dead. Supposing you fetch what you can, and if you will allow me, I will see you off. . There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual.
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