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Smith," observed Wood. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. It was possible that his first impressions had not been correct. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. Afterwards she hunted up the article in question, and it seemed to her quite delightfully written and argued.
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