Sheppard's ward, Sir. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. “Please stay,” she said briefly. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs.
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