A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals.
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