She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. Where even to be a Catholic, they say, is to be looked upon with scorn and disgust. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. She was no longer there.
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