But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. For all that, it is folly. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. What had Brewis Charvill to say to that, Gerald?’ ‘He had nothing to say to it. Well, this was the side of the world where things like that happened.
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