The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him.
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