It's two hundred pounds. "Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to.
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