\"I'm sorry, Larry. ” Ennison had things to say, but he looked at her and held his tongue. "Done!" cried Shotbolt. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear.
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