"Let me go," cried Winifred. It makes me want to be just everything I CAN be to you. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. He must not in any way call their attention to it.
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