A terrible spectacle was presented to the young man's gaze:—the floor deluged with blood—the mangled and lifeless body of Mrs. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. "My enemy," replied her son. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. In some instances she tantalizes the victim for years and mocks him in the end.
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