I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. My Mom and Dad were always 184 at work. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. I am bothered.
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