I warned her not to say a word, for it would mean the death of everyone in the Palazzo, including you. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor. He's safe enough now. Sheppard stopped him. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore.
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