Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window.
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