As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. "My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. Sheppard. You’re a lady.
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