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She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. Sir Rowland Trenchard is aware of your return to England. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person. Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to.

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