For a time I didn't know we'd ever find you. Very well, I give up. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. "No matter," replied Sheppard.
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