“Does it hurt?” Michelle asked. Who was he?” “Intriguing. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question.
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