Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess.
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