Edgeworth Bess, who passed for Sheppard's wife, was secured. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. "He is all alone. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. The practice has been common for thousands of years. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her.
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