‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. She rested her head upon his shoulder. Nothing at all. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. “I will not have this slavery. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece.
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