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Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. “It jars. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. During all this time, he had never quitted the iron bar, and he now grasped it with the firm determination of selling his life dearly, if he met with any opposition. Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers.
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