"Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. When I think of the love you give me—One ought to give you back love. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her. To-morrow they will all be contradicted.
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