Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment. She hesitated. ” She brought her knees up to her chest, and rocked back and forth like a small child. McClintock will have some. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. ” “I’ve told you,” he said.
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