In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. He forced her arm back, away, stretching it out to keep the weapon at bay. The fashions of the day have become antiquated.
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