CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together. "May I be cursed," muttered Sheppard, as he slunk away with (as the woollendraper pleasantly observed) 'a couple of boxes in charge,' "if ever I try to be honest again!" "Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr. Wild!" demanded Trenchard, as if he had formed a sudden resolution.
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