Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. “Let me help you,” he begged. She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze.
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