‘I do not know. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request. ” She surveyed this sentence for some time before going on. You know they say, as, indeed, I have just quoted already, that all bad poetry is written in a state of emotion, but I have no doubt that this is true of bad offers of marriage. He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. He went more easily this time.
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