“Something. “Will you help me?” he asked. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Or mad, just as the captain had said so many times. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death.
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