4. The night was now profoundly dark. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. ” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. They could no longer stay in one place. It’s odd, but nothing but cliche seems to meet this case. Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request.
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