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While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. “It is just six o’clock now. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. Wood turned to look at him. My janizaries shall go with me. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin.
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