His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her. You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her.
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