"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. The booming voice and the energetic movements spoke plainly of hurry. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. " Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. ” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose.
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