" "You'd better," replied Quilt. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. Bring the light this way—quick! I cannot decipher the signature. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. The boy’s besotted. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. "To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic. But I liked to say it.
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