"Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. "I was only just in time. 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. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. I know something about men.
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