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"Thames was always your favourite," observed Jack, as he fastened another piece of wood on the teeth of the iron stopper. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. Then they rode off at speed. Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. .
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