Sheppard, falling on her knees. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us.
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