I have never spoken of these things to any human being. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. ‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword. You must be misinformed, Mr.
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