“Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. "Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs. " The answer to this request was a "smack" of a very different description, bestowed upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little damsel, as she ran out of the room. I—I hurt myself. She had looked forward to an explanation. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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