And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. Her tone was icy. Prepared as he was for a dreadful shock, and with his nerves strung to endure it, Jack absolutely recoiled before the appalling object that met his gaze. All human food tasted equally dead and loathsome to her, whether it was prime steak or cheap hamburger. ’ Hilary eyed him. And now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have a little quiet chat together.
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