"Thames, I entreat—" "Your wishes are my laws, beloved, girl," replied Kneebone, bowing profoundly. The day is already half over. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. As to the picture, I'll keep it myself, though, if you do go I shall need no memorial of you. That's a queer yarn.
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