You called yourself a murderess. He began shoveling dirt over the bodies. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no means belied its external appearance.
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