" "The link of the chain next the staple is sawn through," said Ireton, stooping to examine Blueskin's fetters. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. " "Then I'll lend a helping hand. Until two hours ago she was as contented and as happy as a linnet. It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact.
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