"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. I can’t. You want me to be clean. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion.
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