Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. One would say she could try to —to prevent that her daughter will go to the convent. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world.
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