The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. Sheppard. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. You will find the certificate in my pocket. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down.
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