‘I don’t want to hurt you any more. " "Footsteps are approaching," cried Thames. Wow. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. The walls were bare, and painted in stone-colour; the floors, devoid of carpet; the beds, of hangings; the windows, of blinds; and, excepting in the thief-taker's own audience-chamber, there was not a chair or a table about the premises; the place of these conveniences being elsewhere supplied by benches, and deal-boards laid across joint-stools. She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. But Jack did not heed them.
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