Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. She then dried her eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him. “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right.
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