"My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. He was a little embarrassed. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered.
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