Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. ‘Not where we’re going. "A missioner! That illuminates everything. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing.
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