” She played with her hair. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. My father died a year ago, by the way. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness.
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