Take me to the Stone Room. “Oh, God!” she said at last, “how I wish I had been taught to pray!” Part 3 She had some idea of putting these subtle and difficult issues to the chaplain when she was warned of his advent. They were silent for a time. He had hurt her. Would there be enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. It was only by the adoption of such a course (especially since the late act of suppression, to which we have alluded,) that the inviolability of the asylum could be preserved. Lucy had been ignoring her, not purposefully, but noticeably. Jack hastily retreated, and taking the first means of concealment that occurred to him, descended the cellar steps.
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