Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. Gianfrancesco ran from the room, tearing at his hair. " "You're a noble-hearted little fellow, Thames," rejoined Wood, casting a look of pride and affection at his adopted son, whose head he gently patted; "and give promise of a glorious manhood. He is here by your side. Could it be him you mean?" "No. ” “I’m so glad you’ll go.
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