There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. His room was last at the end of one winding corner. But here the resemblance stopped. It’s a lake among precipices, and there is a little inn where we can stay, and sit and eat our dinner at a pleasant table that looks upon the lake.
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