Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. And, what's more, I tell you, if Captain Sheppard is hanged, you need never hope to call me Mrs. Shari was snoring soundly. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent.
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