By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He subjected me there to great annoyance by claiming me as his wife.
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