Don't feel fussed upon my account. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. " The envelope contained exactly five hundred dollars. To-morrow he might be sorry; but to-day, this hour! She rose, not quickly, but with a dignity which only accentuated her beauty. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door.
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