" "She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life. His curiosity put itself into a question. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. net Transcribers Note: Obvious typesetter errors from the original corrected in this etext. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. “Do come and cheer me up. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. “I expected you this morning,” he said. "But I have one last request to make.
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