With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. 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. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face.
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