” He was bereft of words for a moment, and in that moment she escaped, having passed him on deftly to one of the later arrivals. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Between her and the fair, far prospect of freedom and self-development manoeuvred Mr. Sheppard, who had been stricken down by the blow that prostrated her assailant, looked up, she perceived Jonathan Wild kneeling beside the body of Blueskin. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants.
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