I will not be sent away. . ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. 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. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly.
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