Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. "I was," answered Sheppard. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place. "I don't exactly know the rights of that affair," rejoined Griffin, with some curiosity.
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