No; she'd never go back. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. On these were thrown all the horrible contents of Jonathan's museum, together with the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard. Sheppard, sinking backwards upon the pallet. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze.
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