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She was finally dead, going to Hell. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. She is the image of what I was like, and she has a better voice. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. With a gesture which was without any kind of emotional expression, the manager indicated the silent crumpled figure on the floor and gave the room number. "Come to buy off Jack Sheppard, I suppose," replied the fellow.
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