She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. CHAPTER XXVII. Come and help me pack. Very glad. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. ’ ‘Do you take me for a fool, Hilary?’ demanded his betrothed. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts.
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