She hated the manor. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. "What are those odd-looking things on the roofs?" she asked of Ah Cum. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. On this second excursion, forewarned, she would use no light and keep as quiet as a mouse, she vowed, and thus refrain from attracting the attention of the militia at the gates.
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