She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. He was going to settle I forget how many millions upon me, and I think that I was dazzled. '—'They can't,' says I. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. That blow made me a thief.
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