Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. Oh, it was very bad.
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