"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. Well, I'll have a look-see at this young De Maupassant. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. "Then take her back," said the manager. It isn’t.
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