“It was the night you left Paris. I want you to be my
wife. Presently. ’
About to hurry from the little parlour, Melusine remembered Mrs Ibstock. "
"Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would
permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford
——"
Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians
of the night. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. "Will you take a guinea for it?"
"Double that sum might tempt me," replied the Jew; "it's a nobleman's coat, upon
my shoul!"
"Here's the money," replied Jack, taking the coat. "I've often heard of a secret
door in this room, though I never saw it. F. Edgeworth Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you. And
Miss Miniver began to sway her. Go to it;
and the best of luck!"
He went out. No one
could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in
the doorway. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 12-07-2024 13:56:33