I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. ‘Damnation! Too late.
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