The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. Every rule is against me—Why did I let you begin this? I might have told—” “I don’t see that you could help—” “I might have helped—” “You couldn’t. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. "However, some one must look after the jail; and they're all gone but me. Section 2.
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