Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. “Do you mean in looks?” she asked. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun.
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