Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. The hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with tenfold fury. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. She loved him. Voting wouldn’t do no ‘arm to ‘er. His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class. She would have to leave very soon. "Remember; we must keep the young fellow's thoughts away from himself. Miching Mallecho.
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