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. . “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. "Do not steel your heart against him, dear Thames," interposed Winifred. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. " Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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