It began as a joke. Others who have done, have found you false. ‘I do not understand you. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Sheppard. He kissed her again. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. He stopped before her suddenly. I have no intention of arresting you. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters.
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