“It’s very late. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. "Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass.
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