The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. Just now the waterchestnuts…. “I detest amateurs.
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