"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. The father was a madman. ‘You are not sympathique in the very least. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. ToC Tyburn was now at hand.
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