She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. Nothing seemed to be amiss. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. "This is your work," said the knight, sternly. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see. . I know where everything valuable is kept. 2.
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