"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. Recollect that. At last he could bear it no longer. " "Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood. "But I can guess what it's for. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled.
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