“Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. What might it have been?’ Mrs Sindlesham shook her head helplessly. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle.
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