"You call in vain," rejoined Thames. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. "Why, how the devil did you happen to guess that?" cried the janizary. After all, life had still its pulsations. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do.
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