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"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. . ‘What a fate he finds for me. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. He added, ‘Also others, but I don’t recall them. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose. The Widgetts talked with a remarkable absence of external coverings; the Palsworthys found all the meanings of life on its surfaces. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures.
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