We may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror.
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