He delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was past. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. " "Nonsense!" "Something's wrong. 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. ” “Do you think that it was wise of you, or kind to come?” she asked quietly.
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