"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. That is why I was so anxious to leave Paris. Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. He stood transfixed. Prudence shook her head. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. . For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. I shall not part with you again.
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