But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. ‘That would have grieved Jarvis. “I’d have to sneak out after everyone was asleep. She was not a reversion to type, which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. I love you all the more for the streak of sheer devil in you.
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