Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. ’ ‘No, I won’t. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood.
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