"Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. Good riddance. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. Old saltwater was right. . “No, I am alone,” she answered. The rest of his attire was nondescript.
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