Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. “It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t. She was pensive and thoughtful. " "Oh! how much I owe him!" said the widow, with fervour, "for bringing me here, and removing me from those dreadful sights and sounds, that would have driven me distracted, even if I had been in my right mind. . Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression.
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