"Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood.
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