It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. "It is your son. “Yes. ” She felt humiliated. “I see the pointer,” she said. " "Miscreants!" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league with him.
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