It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath.
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