What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. Kneebone and Mr. Don’t imagine that. "For me—his master, Mr. "Can't you see? I can't hurt her, if … if she cares! I can't tell her I'm a madman as well as a thief!… What a fool! What a fool!" A thief. ” They were eating quails when they returned to the topic of love.
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