He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. Her voice was weak and flat. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet.
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