They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. I cannot protect you. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. People think it is, but they are wrong. "And yet, he has been spared thus long; perhaps with a wise purpose," rejoined Thames.
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