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. For she needed him. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. ” Sir John was speechless. It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact. ” “You have been to her?” he asked.
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