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You shall lie upon your back; your head shall be covered; and your feet shall be bare. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. The vote is only the beginning, the necessary beginning. 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. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources.
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