” “Thank you very much,” Anna said. He was a Wiltshire Edmondshaw, a very old family. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere.
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