“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. I said to myself, ‘this will come. "Precisely. ’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. Bring the light this way—quick! I cannot decipher the signature. "All right," replied Sheppard, with affected indifference. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say.
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