Mr. Sheppard. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. When I think of the love you give me—One ought to give you back love. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. My mother shall never degrade herself by a connection with you.
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