No means were neglected to accomplish this end. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. "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. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. ‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. "Has no man ever kissed you?" "No. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him.
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