Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Or else I would have finished him. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. ’ Melusine could not suppress a smile. 1. "Alone?" "Not exactly, Sir.
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