His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. Maggot, eyeing him from head to heel with evident satisfaction;—"a devilish pretty fellow!" "Upon my word, Poll," said Kneebone, becoming very red, "you might have a little more delicacy than to tell him so before my face. I could never make you understand. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are.
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