Sheppard, in a voice of agony. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to.
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