He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. “I thank you for your advice,” she said. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. "You'll not be offended, I hope," returned Wood, drily, "if I say that your voice, your manner, and, above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing, put me strangely in mind of one of the 'droll dogs,' (as you term them,) who helped to perpetrate the outrage I've just described. Yes, very well. ‘Many things he taught me. Nothing that I desire to remember," replied Sheppard, sternly. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. From then on he was Ruth's dog. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows.
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