She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. ' That has always haunted me. ” “Oh, it wasn’t that. "Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done.
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