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Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. He whispered in her ear. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. I got myself locked up to cool off. Anna was suddenly very quiet. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her.
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