"Here, Caliban," shouted the under-turnkey, "unlock Captain Sheppard's padlock, and tell him his wives are in the Lodge waiting to see him. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. I’ve wanted you—always. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns. It’s gone.
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