“Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. 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. You’ll need that. Well, let's beat it to the hotel.
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