The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. She did not know herself. Once before—but that had been different. "There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Condemned Hould," laughed the man. “Good God!” he exclaimed. ” Anna shook her head. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. ” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone. Stanley, at the door. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books.
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