She attacked his hair resolutely. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. “Mary Lucia. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. "Bring the light, Nab. "Jack Sheppard's face is well worth preserving.
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