"Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet.
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