So, let's think no more about it. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. "I alone am to blame. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. "He can't get out. The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted. "Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing.
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