"What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. Suddenly remembering Kimble, her heart thudded with excitement. "He was thrown overboard, and perished at sea. The boat's sure to run foul o' the bridge; and if she 'scapes stavin' above, she'll be swamped to a sartainty below.
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