‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. You see, the trouble is that the matter is in dispute. " "What am I to do to earn it?" asked Blueskin, with a disgusting leer,—"cut a throat—or throw myself at your feet—eh, my dear?" "Give me that child," returned the lady, with difficulty overcoming the loathing inspired by the ruffian's familiarity. "We'll do it. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. Its parents have perished. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own.
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