“Go on!” she commanded. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. “I say!” he said, without any movement. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. "I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill.
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