The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river. While he was filling his pockets with golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it open, began filling a canvass bag with its contents,—silver coffee-pots, chocolate-dishes, waiters trays, tankards, goblets, and candlesticks. Think! You could not have done it. “They might do you good,” she remarked. A nod was exchanged.
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