It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. It does not matter to him either way. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment. " By this time, the chair had been brought into the Lodge.
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