The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. It was no marriage at all. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. It is impossible.
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