" "Where are they?" "Ay, where are they?" chorussed the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in the air; "we'll starve 'em out. There was a flash and a loud report. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s lips twitched.
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