Kneebone, addressing his comely attendant; "put a few more plates on the table, and bring up whatever there is in the larder. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. Looking for something, or someone, probably. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. He must have married when he was quite a young man. Then she shrugged.
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