"Well, well; I have given out of my wisdom. No man knew whence she had come nor why. Jack Sheppard is now wholly in my hands. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply.
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