’ The lashes fluttered demurely. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. . Your glove will suffice. ’ He frowned again. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. The door closed softly upon her. She went to her own table and sat down. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever.
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