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" "You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically, "but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to assist him. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. ’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. ‘I do not wish to hear any more reasons so foolish, so do not trouble to think of them. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine. "Now your curiosity's satisfied, child," continued Kneebone, "perhaps, you'll attend to my orders. "Then his case is hopeless.
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