" "Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. She kept opening her eyes and looking at it. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding the change, and it was with difficulty he could command himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he desired to do respecting the former owner of the house. ‘The whole town is talking.
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