A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. I will shed no more blood.
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