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Earles recovered his spirits. That would be him. Shortly to be executed. As they approached London Bridge, the thief-taker whispered Van Galgebrok, who acted as steersman, to make for a particular arch—near the Surrey shore. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. "Rachel," said Mr. . “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums.
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