She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. "You pledged yourself to Mr. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. ” “Why?” asked Hetty. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. All the rest is humbug and delicacy.
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