She looked steadfastly out. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket.
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