If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. . "Don't alarm yourself about him, Sir," replied Austin. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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