Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. I never met your sister in Paris, but I heard about her more than once. ’ He only laughed. This was in Tennessee. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. I spoke a thought aloud. Their faces had bite marks that were hers. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance.
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