Sheppard, passionately,—"he has my boundless gratitude, and devotion. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. His face was downcast. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child.
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