” Brendon rushed to the piano and strummed out a tune. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. She fought him with tooth and nail. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped.
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