How came you, Sir," he continued, addressing Sheppard, "to venture upon that frame. I packed them with the other few things I owned. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. It must be the dawn creeping in. . ” She grinned. A pretty piece. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered.
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