Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Endless complications ensue when both sisters return to London. don’t have time. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. " With this, he struck the door a heavy blow.
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