She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. She was rash and ignorant, absolutely inexperienced. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. Well, that’s the situation. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. “The fees are paid to the end of the session. 275 “Yes!” She answered, feeling joy and fear well in her chest. But don't suppose, Madam, that anything I say has reference to you.
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