Mrs. "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. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. What of madame, his wife?’ ‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. You don’t deserve it, but he does.
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