"There's Sharples," cried Quilt. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. ‘I had no need of the place, and there was no money, of course. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. All at once she became aware of sounds outside. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night. You can trust me, Anna.
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