You don’t have to live forever to understand that. Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. I overheard them planning your assassination. Consider you’ve got resources deposited with me. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Sheppard, with a faint smile and a doubtful shake of the head, as Wood drew her to a seat beside him, "for I've had my full share of misery.
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