” Ramage reflected. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. Her tears dissipated as she began to convulse, completely devoid of any spare fluid. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul.
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