She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. Sheppard, struggling to escape, and holding the infant at arm's length; "have mercy on this helpless innocent!" And the child, alarmed by the strife, added its feeble cries to its mother's shrieks. I guess. It’s an emerald. ” He thought. ” She said warmly.
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