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One of the coolies held the paper lantern. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. I’ve bored you or something. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. XII JACK SHEPPARD A Romance BY W.
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