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In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. “It seems to me all madness—madness! Just because your father—wouldn’t let you disobey him!” Part 3 In the afternoon the task of expostulation was taken up by Mr. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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