“You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. Attempt to molest me, and I split. ’ Her lips parted, but she did not speak. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone.
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