Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. Crossing them, he ascended an eminence, which, from its singular shape, seems to have been the site of a Roman encampment, and which commands a magnificent prospect. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise.
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