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. ” She leaned back amongst the cushions of her chair. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. When Capes glanced up at them for a moment, Manning seemed to be holding his arms all about her, and there was nothing but quiet acquiescence in her bearing. The shock and distress were genuine.
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