Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. . Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands.
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