But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the stains on the ground, the villain escaped. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. 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. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. “Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss.
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