’ ‘Now then, missie,’ began the sergeant severely, ‘just you hand over that dagger. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. 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. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself.
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