"I'm afraid we'll have to dig into his trunk," he said. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. "And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?" "You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. We shall expect you to tell us all what to wear. ” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug.
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