"I've lost my wager. Sepulchre's. Gone off, cool as you please, and left me to manage everything. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. Along the floor ran an iron bar to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he could move along it from one end of the chamber to the other. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. "I will not submit to be thus interrogated," said Winifred, angrily. Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight. She could no longer wait. I am afraid because I love you, so that the mere thought of failure hurts. Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat.
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