“Come sit with me, beautiful. This discovery made, I hastened back to London to offer you my hand, but found you had married in the mean time a smock-faced, smooth-tongued carpenter named Sheppard. You have a daughter, no? Madame Ibstock, I think. Her pa was only the smithy. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. "I understand," she said. ” She was able to go straight to her room without delay, and she at once locked the door with a little sigh of relief.
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