By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. The dismal tolling of St. " "Entreat a fiddlestick!" retorted Mrs.
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