But here she met with a check. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ‘Oh, peste. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. ” “I won’t keep you very long, daddy,” said Ann Veronica.
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