” 240 “Then I’ll wait for you. . Nigel Ennison was he. She had been obliged to wait all morning for the opportunity to talk to Martha, who chose always to retire to her cell for the period of recreation that preceded afternoon prayers. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. Suddenly remembering Kimble, her heart thudded with excitement.
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