And most of the others she had met had, she felt, the same steadfastness. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. With the broken links of the chain, which served him in lieu of more efficient implements, he commenced operations just above the chimney-piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs.
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