"My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. ” “Then why,” Anna asked quietly, “do you run away? It is not like you. " "Miscreants!" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league with him. I'm about to leave this country for ever. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness.
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