"Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. Such a beautiful boy he is, but his intelligence is marginal. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. Ann Veronica stared at his foolish, propitiatory smile, his hungry gaze, through one moment of amazement, then stepped aside and went on her way with a quickened step. "Can't!" repeated his mother. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand.
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