The audience clapped more heartily. 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. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. “NOW!” said Ann Veronica. Do you know, Lady Ferringhall, I am proud that your sister permits me to call myself her friend. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity.
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