Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. The two young fools laughed until they cried. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window.
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