How dreary it all looks. Tom Sheppard was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. Now, he must have folks somewhere. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. Spurlock slept on. ’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue.
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