You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone.
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