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. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. \"Thanks for coming. “Actually, I am, it is terribly stupid. Earles said persuasively. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish.
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