She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. She had fallen asleep. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff.
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