" On the appearance of his visitors, Sheppard arose,—his gyves clanking heavily as he made the movement,—and folding his arms, so far as his manacles would permit him, upon his breast, steadily returned the glances fixed upon him. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. ‘Let her go. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. " "Confidentially, I'm assured that he has another. .
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