Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Alban's to-night. Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. " Then he looked at Ruth. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses. They struck her as cold and indifferent.
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