" "That's my own concern," rejoined Sheppard. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. " "It is folded under your pillow. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. "Sir Rowland is murdered!" cried Jack, as soon as he could find a tongue.
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