The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. Melusine ran to catch at his arm. It was the moment for smiles. They had cried a little, both.
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