"It's an odd-shaped one," rejoined Kneebone, examining it attentively. All right, I’m coming. “Come,” she said. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. "I was," answered Sheppard. Sheppard, he turned to quit the churchyard. ” She raised her eyebrows.
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