The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. 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. A skeleton was propped against the mantelpiece. Voting wouldn’t do no ‘arm to ‘er. She began to feel odd sensations while peering busily at his shoulder and profile. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again.
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