Sheppard. ’ ‘Yes, but what is it, Jacques?’ demanded the lady. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. . F.
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