Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. Sheppard, a matron offered to conduct him to her cell. Then she shrugged.
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