" "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. "'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. I told him that I was not ‘Alcide.
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