Her aunt glanced up startled, and then sat very still, with hands that had ceased to work. He made a movement toward her, and then recalled the circumstances of their last conversation in that study. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it.
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