Catch him, she begged silently. Here are your indentures, if you choose to seek another master. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. Sheppard. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Here was an instrument which might be of the greatest service to him in accomplishing his design.
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