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. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. ” She spotted a beer bottle and picked it up from the ground. "I shall be able to stretch my limbs presently—ha! ha!" "Hush!" cried Kneebone, "I hear a noise without. I didn’t believe him and I said so. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers.
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