’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. The other lay unconscious in a heap. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. . ‘Jacques, do not go!’ Jack gazed steadfastly at the floor. "You open it, Ruth.
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