"'And thine eye shall not pity,'" said her father, in a tone of rebuke, "'but, life shall be for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. I am a murderer. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. ” His lips tightened, and he frowned with solemn resolution.
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