But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. "Come out!" roared Quilt, looking into the aperture. “Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck.
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