” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. " "That's my own concern," rejoined Sheppard. If you do not find your aunt, my people will take you under wing until you can stand on your own. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames.
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