" "And now, father, your blessing—your consent!" cried Thames. No one will ever love you as I love you now. The coolies proceeded at a swinging, mincing trot, which gave to the suspended seat a dancing action similar to that of a suddenly agitated hangingspring of a birdcage. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white.
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