CHAPTER XVIII. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. The twenty pounds burned with avidity. She no more realizes what she has done than a child of eight. Neither your aunt nor I have any other thought but what is best for you. Sheppard. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. Let me take the satchel, sir.
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