Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. . “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. E. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined.
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