No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. She elected to go to prison. 'Mrs. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. CHAPTER XVIII.
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