He stopped before her suddenly. ‘We mean you no harm,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I knew it. "Confusion! the rascal must have picked my pocket of your letters," whispered Kneebone, "What's to be done?" "What's to be done! Why, I'm undone! How imprudent in you not to burn them. "Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of revenge on those terms? No! But I'll have the secret out of you by other means.
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