"Tell Mr. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. “Women are mocked,” she said. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you.
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