. ‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been imposed upon. “Like a stab. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. It is useless to talk. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror.
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