Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" "That's it! I ought to have died that night!" "Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by gratitude.
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