The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. Two separate search parties were formed to hike the areas near the Greene River as a panic spread over the town of Princeton Hills. ‘I knowed he were a wrong ’un, but that. Not up here, I think. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper.
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