It was better even than the hymn-singing. “Who can tell?” she said. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. “It isn’t anything to do with our times particularly. \" He leaned at a steeper pitch. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. ‘But that will do for a start. He can't play cards, either, when he's sober. Surely it was a dream. " She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment on the part of the other diners. The inn was a military haunt.
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