They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. . Brendon suggests supper at the Carlton.
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