"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. He came to the door and as he opened it a crack, she pushed herself inside urgently. A curious silence ensued. “But I am your husband,” he said. Love-making at first hand is dull enough. “It was perhaps my fault. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet.
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