Ascertaining that it was Sheppard of whom this concourse was in pursuit, the two horsemen leapt the hedge, and were presently close upon him. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. "As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence declared. Let—it—fall.
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