"Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. Thames Darrell MUST die. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us.
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