She hoped fervently that Martin had not divulged his crush to Brown. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. She comprehends what we're about. Ah!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob in the wall, "there's the spring!" He touched it, and the door flew open. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. . okay.
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