We will beg our bread and our shelter, and our passage on a boat. "Then we're imprisoned. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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