Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. In the upper hall he paused to listen. She took a deep breath. Maggot, who promptly interposed her cudgel. ‘She hasn’t said so, but I presume Valade had got hold of all the useful papers,’ Gerald went on.
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