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The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Sir John followed me to London and married me. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you.
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