"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short.
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