"And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?" "You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now.
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