Thames," she urged, "the errand, on which you're going, can't be for any good, or you wouldn't be afraid of mentioning it to my father. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. He had heard this talk before. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. “I’ve gotta go.
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