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Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. She is something different. " "Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. “My heart, my dove, I only want to heal you. ” “Wait? For what?” She replied. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. . He was a fool. Only a book detective could dope this out. . " "If I disobey you, Sir Rowland," replied the thief-taker, "you'll thank me for it hereafter. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably.
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