Let them take their turn now and clothe the poor." "No, no.

Steady, master," said the man, stepping forward to propitiate Miss Wilson, and evidently much oppressed by a sense of unwelcomeness.
"It ain't any fault of the lady's.

Might I make so bold as to ask you to put this woman of mine anywhere that may be convenient until morning.
Any sort of a place will do; she's accustomed to rough it.

Just to have a roof over her until I find a room in the village where we can shake down." Here, led by his own words to contemplate the future, he looked desolately round the cornice of the hall, as if it were a shelf on which somebody might have left a suitable lodging for him.
Miss Wilson turned her back decisively and contemptuously on Smilash.
She had recovered herself.

"I will keep your wife here," she said to the man.