He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. Yet you knew that I was not dead. He did not move. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of indignation that had put terror into her heart. Then he paused. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment. "Ruth?" "Hoddy!" she cried. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride.
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