“I will tell you all that I know,” Anna said. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you.
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