" "Let me go," implored Mrs. . "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the great shrouded shapes of the furniture. That’s got his nerves to rags. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. " Quilt knelt down, as if he meant to comply; but, watching his opportunity, he made a sudden grasp at Sheppard's leg, with the intention of overthrowing him.
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