" Sheppard said nothing, but a disdainful smile curled his lips. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter. Wood fancied he recognised. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. ‘She may well try to go back. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand.
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