She was finally dead, going to Hell. You have thought it worth while to take some considerable pains to resolve for yourself my sister’s identity. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. He's got the gift of the gab.
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