Ah Cum before the day was over, slyly baiting him. Wood, disdainfully. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. I did not know how he would act if I obstructed him. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child.
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