Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard.
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