The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood.
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