"Because it's not like you," was her answer. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. But go on. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. Jeremiah Jackson's double. I was at work at it yesterday and the day before. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. She winced when first she heard the preparation-room door open and Capes came down the laboratory; but when at last he reached her she was self-possessed. She brought the unconscious man down.
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