’ She thrust him into the aperture, and pushed the hilt of the sword into his hand. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. ’ ‘No, miss,’ cut in Kimble. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises.
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