“What did it matter?” she cried. ” He replied. 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. With his gimblet he contrived to bore a number of holes so close together that at last one end of the bar, being completely pierced through, yielded; and pursuing the same with the other extremity, it fell out altogether. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. He turned just in time to see Lucilla exchange an amused look with Hilary. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more.
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