“A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. " The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland disappeared.
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