Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. It was fastened inside. "I am glad you think that," she replied. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands, he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. We could have secured you when you left the Mint. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter. It’s only as if I’d begun to know you the day before yesterday or there-abouts.
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