"Do not steel your heart against him, dear Thames," interposed Winifred. Sheppard. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Come to take leave. It is not for myself I fear. "You play?" asked McClintock, who was sorting the rolls. "To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul.
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