’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. It is no fault of your own that you are not at this moment standing there with your head blown off.
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