" "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. ‘He wanted me also to run away with him, and I wish very much that I had done so. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr.
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