"Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. Will you answer me a question first?” “If I can,” Ennison said. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger.
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