Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. "Your uncle, Sir Rowland?" "It is no idle boasting," replied the other. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity.
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