Sheppard. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. "I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. "I mean to have no one but yourself in it. "But you do agitate me so much.
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