Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. "He knows he had to take it. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. Nevertheless, relief washed over her, her body rejoicing in the afterglow of twenty years of tension released. I know where everything valuable is kept. And, what's more, I tell you, if Captain Sheppard is hanged, you need never hope to call me Mrs.
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