Part 4 After a day or so she thought more steadily. So far the thing was acceptable enough. “If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. "Bring him out, Quilt. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. Behind the illustrious personages just described marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges in their hats, quarterstaves, oaken cudgels, and links in their hands. She was suddenly grave.
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