"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. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. See paragraph 1. “I tell you it was a lie!” he shouted wildly. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly.
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