Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. ’ Gerald frowned. . Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. “Does it hurt?” Michelle asked.
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