Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind and seldom fulfilled that promise. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. ‘She would not tell me.
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