He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. Sheppard in a troubled voice, "that if I lost my child, I should lose all I have left in the world. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here.
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