He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. “Eight, Cavendish Square. Gentlemen,—Mr. Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow.
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