She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. “You see, it comes after all,” she continued, “from certain original convictions which have become my religion. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. . ’ ‘To you,’ she said angrily. I pray, Anna, that you may find your happiness.
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