"What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. 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. “Very likely,” he answered. In this part of the world it is wise never to be separated from your luggage. Occasionally she would be missing a sock or a bra, so she took to storing those things in her gym locker.
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