A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. He entered the room with his usual deliberation, and looked covertly about him.
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