" "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. Escape was now impossible. Kneebone's," remarked Austin, rising to fasten the door. It was enough. 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 not needlessly alarm me, I beseech you," replied Winifred.
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