Sheppard, disregarding the taunt, "come away. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. ‘Cover her, men. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father.
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