" The attendant did not understand him. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. “I want to speak to you. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. After this occurence, not a word was exchanged between them until they came in sight of the sloop, which was lying at anchor off Wapping. Your adoptive father understands mankind better.
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