Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. “I promise, Lucy. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared. I can be a gentleman. . She stopped eating. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. This, Wood, acting upon Terry's caution, was most unwilling to do; but, finding he had no alternative, he reluctantly made known his errand and the bolts were undrawn. Then the storm broke. CHAPTER XIX. Her moods were many and always striking. Trust you.
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