There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. “Stupid cow. Ain’t enough as I’ve got militiamen quartered on me this se’ennight, lazing about all day, eating me out of house and home and drinking my liquor into the bargain. "You've been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your Burlington Gate.
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