I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. "Well, since you force me to betray my master's secrets," replied Quilt, sullenly, "I've ridden express to Manchester to deliver a message to Sir Rowland. "He's dead," exclaimed Austin.
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