“You will go and see her,” he begged. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed. ’ Jack blinked at her. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. ‘Jacques!’ She got no further, for Kimble came towards her, speaking fast and low. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. 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. \"He's good-looking.
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