His food lay untouched about his plate. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. Leave me my blanket! I'm very cold at night. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. ‘Not from the nuns, no.
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