Here and there, a building might be seen with the doors and windows driven in, and all access to it prevented by the heaps of bricks and tilesherds. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. Only an undermaid I was then. It was Annabel who spoke. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study.
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