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At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. The father was a madman. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Why should WE hoard? We aren’t going out presently, like Japanese lanterns in a gale. ’ ‘In a way she had been,’ said Prudence.
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