CHAPTER XVIII. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. He thought for a moment, and went on: “Love is something that has to be taken care of. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. “Forgive me,” he said, “but I want to hear it from your sister. Better take these sandwiches.
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