The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting. Let her see if she could manage this one, perhaps turn all to suit herself? ‘What do you think to do with me now?’ The captain lowered the pistol. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring.
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