"Stop, Caliban," interposed Mrs. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. "Much that I would willingly forget. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. “Thank you. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. It'll be your own fault if you don't soon get another and a proper young man into the bargain. Lucy was a hard worker and a good cook and because of those traits she and Sheila had gotten along most of the time.
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