She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut.
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