She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. He cocked an eyebrow. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. As to Mrs.
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