Sheppard, distractedly. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. It is different. Wood entered the room, followed by Thames. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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