“I get that a lot. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. But, when I look upon his innocent face, and see how like he is to his father,—when I think of that father's shameful ending, and recollect how free from guilt he once was,—at such times, Mr. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. " "Bring him here,—let me see him—let me embrace him—let me be assured that he is safe, and I am yours. " And seizing her by the hair, he pulled back her head, and drew the knife with all his force across her throat. She fled.
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