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Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires.
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