Ah Cum, sensing the difficulty, approached, recovered the damp handkerchief and returned it. “You poor little girl!” he cried. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. It engulfed them in black, white, and gray. His instinct was in the direction of considering his daughters his absolute property, bound to obey him, his to give away or his to keep to be a comfort in his declining years just as he thought fit. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. .
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