"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. . " "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. " "You'd better take care of your mother's son instead," rejoined Blueskin.
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