He had, for the most part, been correct. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. . Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong.
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