"Can't you speak?" "I don't choose," replied Thames, sturdily; "and your brutality shan't make me. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister.
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