Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. . And there arose too, a background of shouts.
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