" "I've nothing to confess," replied Thames, boldly; "I've done no wrong. Perhaps you will now explain the alarm. We’ll go. "Well, it's a good story. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy.
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