" At the time of his present introduction, his play of "The Captives," had just been produced at Drury Lane, and he was meditating his "Fables," which were published two years afterwards. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. That’s why we are here. " "You were so," replied Mrs Sheppard; "and for that wicked deed you will one day be brought to the gallows yourself.
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