“You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. "These packets will establish Thames Darrell's birth, win him his inheritance, and procure him the hand of Winifred Wood. All her pride raged at me. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. " "Suppose he brings Blueskin, or some other ruffian with him," hesitated the jailer. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. I haven't forgotten her previous history.
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