The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. But, though I cannot reward you, Heaven will. “I ought to have done. I thought every one had heard about it. “It is no good playing a game. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble. She never expected to get her ladyship home alive. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this.
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