"Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. CHAPTER XXXI. She was conscious the whole conversation of Michelle, trying to divine what the girl was planning to do. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. Not entirely. The affair was thick with sinister suggestions.
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