You were pointed out to me at—a few nights ago. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. " "Who are they?" inquired Sheppard. Then he threw the letter at me. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel.
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