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Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. "He was hanged that left his drink behind, you know, master," rejoined Sheppard. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. He never felt any need to explain himself.
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