" "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. "Caught!" shouted the head-turnkey. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.
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