In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. If he succeeds there, I do not know how I can prove myself. "Does your father doubt it? Speak! tell me!" Winifred made no answer. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms.
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