The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. They carried no more than bare subsistence wages; and they demanded all her time and energy. "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. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us.
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