"Love me, love my dog! Because I've scolded him and told him a few truths, you are ice to me. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open.
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