He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. Did he track her? She was unaware if he did. ‘But of course. \"He still likes you, I believe. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. I do not even know his name.
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