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Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. . It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot.
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