If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. " "The woman I mean did not join the assault," rejoined the Master, "but rather seemed to shun observation; and, from the hasty glimpse I caught of her, she appeared to have a child in her arms.
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