Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. "Never mind," replied the tapstress. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. If he ran less risk of being blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being washed off, or stifled. Mike chimed in.
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