She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. He hesitated. ” She answered. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. Until two hours ago she was as contented and as happy as a linnet. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. "Release your prisoner," continued Wood, "or the window is opened.
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