ToC Thames Darrell's fears were not, however, groundless. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. Am I quite hidden?" "Not quite;—keep your feet in. Ramage demurred. . .
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