92 She did not notice the police car sitting near the Beck house until they were pulling into the driveway. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. Sheppard in the asylum, and take her this, and send her that;—and I've never prevented you, though such mistaken liberality's enough to provoke a saint. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee.
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