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. "Now, step this way, Mr. I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. “I’ll ruin your suit. Mrs. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted.
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