"It is," replied Sheppard. ‘I have justice. Look at me. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine.
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