"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. "Much better," said Mrs. ” “I wish I could make you visible to yourself. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content.
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