"You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. His glasses were gone. Sheppard, paralysed by the threat. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly.
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