In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming.
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