"Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. He deserves none. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. ” “I am not afraid,” she answered.
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