Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless.
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