Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban; a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body too long for his legs. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. This forthright dame was so excited, she could not keep still, but paced about the parlour much as Melusine had done earlier. ‘I have justice. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop. Wild," observed the knight, contemptuously.
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