Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. He was angry. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. They were childless and servantless, and they had reduced simple living to the finest of fine arts. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing.
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