"My sister the wife of one condemned felon! the parent of another! It cannot be. She laughed altogether in her old manner. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. Agreeably he helped her take the shirt off. “I expected you this morning,” he said. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. I don’t have to take this shit. Put him in the stocks, and there let him sleep off his drunken fit. Show him no quarter, Poll. ‘It must have been so, Melusine, or I wouldn’t have kissed you.
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