I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. E. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Ruth went on to explain. "Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation.
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