"He will pull through?" "Positively. She could not help thinking of Capes. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. There never is much left for me. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. But such is the perversity of the human that frequently thereafter he purposely crooked the part in his hair, to give her the excuse to fetch the comb. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily.
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