” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. It disgusts me that you should touch me. His father was one of my old customers, and I am happy to find his son treading in his steps. The knife is at my breast. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father.
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