“I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. ‘I will do so. Sheppard, meekly. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past.
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