Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful wreck before her,—"Poor Mrs. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. He stood outside of the car, bewildered, as she walked up to the BMW’s front bumper.
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