Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber. Consequences of the Theft X. We smirk, and we’re a bit—furtive. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you.
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