She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. “Do come and cheer me up. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon.
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