"And yet, he has been spared thus long; perhaps with a wise purpose," rejoined Thames. "Dear me!" she added, as she pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. "Speak, or I fire!" "Well, if you will have it, it's Sir Rowland Trenchard. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. The Northern Ocean keeps a secret better than the Thames, Sir Rowland. The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground.
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