“Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo. Wood, who maintained stoutly, that if Thames had been led to do wrong, it must be through the instrumentality of his worthless companion. "You can't go to sea with a book of rules.
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