It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. When I heard about Larry I was going 159 to call you, I was, but, well, there is no excuse, is there? I acted like I was afraid of you, afraid that I liked you, so I ignored you like a coward. He destroyed her clumsily made dolls whenever he found them. But they been good to me, they have, sir. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her temples. "Write as follows," continued Jack.
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