"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. I’m fine. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait.
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