‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. The dizziness made the trees sickening, the smell of Michelle’s perfume soapy and revolting. Through this, his last trial, Jack's spirits never deserted him.
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