"But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet.
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