He seemed to be. They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. Melusine’s heart ached for him, but she had to force him on. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. " "Thank'ee, Sir," grinned Sheppard.
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