Sheppard, returning his embrace with all a parent's tenderness. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. Would you mind drawing them back?” Ennison sprang up, but he never reached the curtains. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. ” He receded from her. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with fever, "I have been ill—dreadfully ill—I believe delirious—I thought I should have died last night—I won't tell you what agony you have caused me—I won't reproach you. 266 She peered up at him.
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