Sheppard, fleeing from him to the farthest corner of the room. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. Her desires were not for riches. Promise me. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands.
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