Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. 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. What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his opinions. You know how stubborn they get. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. I took the usual way home. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her.
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