The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. Humph. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room.
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