\" Lucy replied. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. “Well,” he said at last slowly, “I’ll pay it. ” “Much better,” she agreed. “I love you, Ann Veronica. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off.
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