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"I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Sepulchre's. "No matter. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better.
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