There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. "I am here, you see," said the smith. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. She nursed at his neck as he peacefully slumbered through being killed. On your own.
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