It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. That is why I am glad that she has gone to London. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely.
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