The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. But I know a little place where we’ll get a little quiet talk. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. Anna said nothing.
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