“It isn’t a joke,” she said. Prudence? Mr Remenham’s sister that was. Come back—you must come back. “Cheer up, Annabel. "I'll admit that. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be so,—which I doubt. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. Her old nurse’s hands returned the pressure. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. ” He paused. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her.
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