8. Oh God! my limbs fail me. Sheppard, relieved by their departure, and giving way to a passionate flood of tears; "were it not for my child, I should wish to be in the place of that unfortunate lady. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things.
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