"Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through.
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