Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. I can talk with them. "It is," replied Sheppard. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before him in an attitude of defence, with the child in his arms. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up.
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