And this shall be your diet till you die. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords.
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