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. ‘Now then, girl. "You'll not be offended, I hope," returned Wood, drily, "if I say that your voice, your manner, and, above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing, put me strangely in mind of one of the 'droll dogs,' (as you term them,) who helped to perpetrate the outrage I've just described. ’ ‘You saw? Where were you? How did you see?’ ‘Your heroic milice are not as clever as they thought. She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. "I cannot do it. That’s really why we do them sometimes rather well and get on. " Winifred's eyes filled with tears.
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