“Just hope that the ground doesn’t shift and unearth them. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. Pretty good stuff, some of it. “Anna, you are the dearest, bravest sister in the world,” she cried. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. She had but to choose.
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