The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. ‘And certainly I wish that Joan will come with us. Her head ached with a hollow pain. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. He unhooked it from the front clasp. I really must leave you now.
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