The inn was a military haunt. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. He's going to ask you to Prom. He recognized the face instantly. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. The lad hesitated. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness.
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