Sheppard, distractedly. Lucy wore it every day from then on. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. ‘Certainly I am not a nun.
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