Sheppard. A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. "I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. I must go and dress at once. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration.
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