. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. He then arose, and, taking a few turns in the chamber, stopped suddenly before her. "You are my prisoner, Jack. No, not one little bit. I have been the vicomte’s secretary, remember.
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