Miss Ellicot has spoken to you, the great Mr. Wood. She took up a book and threw it down again. "Your answer!" cried Sheppard. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. An unwelcome idea came to him.
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