He turned round toward her and found her looking at him and standing very still. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly.
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