“We can be alone?” She inquired. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. "Don't think to deceive me by your false pretences. John looked at his feet bashfully. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. You think you will. Wily little devil she is.
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