” “Coarse?” said Capes, “We’re not coarse. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. She disengaged her hands and stood up. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. He will be hanged—hanged—hanged.
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