Section 2. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. "Your master wants a few table-spoons, child," said Mrs. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. He had a wild impulse to shout. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered.
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