That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. After a brief conversation, which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveliness, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few words of common-place gallantry to her. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. ” “Above all, no one except I can know what you are.
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