She was bathed in turbid water that had already been used. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. Despair engulfed her at the horrid remembrance that the one particular Englishman she knew to be sympathique did not at all wish to marry her. That's the only fault I know of. "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.
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