"Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. ’ What would you tell her?” “If she asked advice, I should say she wasn’t fit to do anything of the sort. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. ” She saw him flinch, but he gave no sign of it in his tone. " "For mercy's sake go up stairs," implored Sheppard.
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