Mr. Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house. He’s terrible!” “Dad!” Lucy smiled at John.
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