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Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. "I understand," she said. It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. She shook her head. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. "I've done with you. . ” “She is one of them,” Ennison said. " "Do not talk thus, dear mother," returned Jack, gazing anxiously at her pale countenance, "or I shall not be able to quit you. Recollect that.
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