"Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. ’ Too late he saw his error. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. John’s demeanor shifted.
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