Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. ‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society.
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