Easy enough. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. Pshaw!" added he, making an effort to subdue his emotion, "I can't leave you in this way. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door.
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