“You are in trouble,” he said. "I ought to tell you that Mr. “Take off your tunic. “Look here,” he said, protruding his eyes; “why get anything to do at all just yet? Why, if you must be free, why not do the sensible thing? Make yourself worth a decent freedom. " "And, if you want an additional inducement to do so, I can tell you there's no one —not even his mother—whom he loves so well as you. . A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale. That’s the wonder of it. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world.
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