Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. E. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. "Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. He's coming. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. " "Don't listen to him, father," cried Thames, unconscious of what was passing; "there are plenty of people outside. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row.
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