Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. But Sheppard was not to be silenced. Each human contact leaves some indelible mark.
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