Please to release me. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly.
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