You must be lonely here with only a few men friends. " "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. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. ’ ‘So Charvill did tell him,’ Gerald said, once more staring into the hole in the wall.
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