“Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. “You’re. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. I spent this afternoon in detention.
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