It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she. "Remember!" cried Quilt, as he forced the captive along. Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief.
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