Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. "Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. And I am grateful to you. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. It makes no difference. She didn’t choose her man. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition.
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