The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. " This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. ‘I left a message at home that he should do so as soon as he returned from Kent. He could not doubt it. She felt she had to go on. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight.
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