As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. Be so good as to come this way. ‘You wish a life of obedience? So be it, Mademoiselle Charvill. Here were imprisoned the fines; and, "perhaps," adds the before-cited authority, "if he behaved himself, an outlawed person might creep in among them. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. —Strype's Stow.
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