She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him.
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