She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. The great world outside! She stood motionless beside the trunk, deep in speculation; and thus the doctor found her.
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