’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. Besides, it was not the lodgekeeper’s business to know that “other matters” included a reluctance on Gerald’s part to allow his little company to conduct the search without him, and he’d had an engagement this morning. "Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, Sir," observed Shotbolt. “I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. Neither did his interest,—which was by no means inconsiderable,—nor his general popularity, procure him the preferment he desired. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever.
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