“Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. 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. Blueskin is booked. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. . The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known.
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