"The poor young man!" she said. “You were going to answer it?” “Certainly not!” she said deliberately. 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. The porter instantly made his appearance, and Sheppard ordered him to take care of the horses. She answered slowly. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself.
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