“Your mother was a Gypsy. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. Her shoulders began to ache. Things happened frequently over here that wouldn't happen in the States once in a hundred years. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg.
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