Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. Charley Pevenill was our host. “You were seen to leave the flat, and your handkerchief was found there. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks. Sheppard, raising herself, and looking at him as if her life depended upon the answer. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed.
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