G. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. “I must explain to her. Amid this tumult, several men armed with tremendous bludgeons, with their faces besmeared with grease and soot, and otherwise disguised, were observed to be urging the populace to attempt a rescue. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. You came to me, you wished me to speak to Anna.
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