All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. Pity you aren’t under my command. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. " "It shall be at the door in ten minutes. We’re closer than you think. Laugh on the wrong side of your mouth, now. “In private. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. But, it can't be helped.
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