She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. She may address me as “Grandfather” if she chooses, since I’m obliged to accept her in that capacity. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Spurling: "I blush for you, Sir! To call yourself a man, and interfere with the natural course of affection! Have you no feeling for the situation of those poor disconsolate creatures, about to be bereaved of all they hold dear? Is it nothing to part with a husband to the gallows? I've lost four in the same way, and know what it is. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found.
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