In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. “Hill gradually recovering consciousness. “No, no,” she cried. Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear.
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