Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. Nobody can trust you. She had no place she loved. He did everything. ” “As you will, dear lover. ” Their eyes met for a moment. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded.
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