The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. It’s not like we’re getting married. In the middle there was a gate.
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