She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. "And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?" "You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. It is not a dissipated face. Do not underestimate my power. "You're in danger. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling.
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