Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. It shall be done as you direct. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. Sheppard prepared for church. 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.
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