She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. "Good night. See what a horrible rascal you've let loose upon the world!" "I'm sure, mother," rejoined Winifred, "if any one was likely to feel resentment, I was; for no one could be more frightened. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. She elected to go to prison. “You’re a student, perhaps?” said the tall woman. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. “Go it, miss!” cried one. ’ ‘That wasn’t my fault.
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