“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. He was not there. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears.
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