"Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. “You will have some tea?” she asked. He quickly responded to her kiss and grasped her to him, kissing her deeply.
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