” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. 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. “Yeah, where the hell were you? My friends would have driven you home when I came home if I could have found you.
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