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. And the grotesquest fact was that she did not so much loathe, as experience with a quite critical condemnation this strange sensation of being kissed. You come with those clear eyes of yours, as valiant as an angel. It could not be she who had done this. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again.
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