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. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. ‘He told me everything, if you mean Gerald. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. ” “Well,” Mrs. ” She laughed gaily.
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