\" He paused in awkward silence as they walked outside the red double doors. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. Then she goes to a dramatic agent. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. We’ll have some buttered toast. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white.
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