"' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door.
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