You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Lucy finished Michelle off, leaving only a dry, unrecognizable husk. But, when he got to the door with this intention, he became ashamed of his fears; and feeling convinced that Jack —bad as he might be—was not capable of such atrocious conduct as to plunder his benefactor twice, he contented himself with looking to the priming of his pistols, and placing them near him, to be ready in case of need, he threw himself on the bed and speedily fell asleep. Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood.
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