She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. He seemed happy with her, finding her proper and seemly. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. I could not hear his heart beat. Whatever she does is minimized. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. E. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate.
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