John, I shall eat that whole tin of sardines. “He is a sad blunderer. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. I don’t believe any one could have traced us here.
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