’ ‘That is what you thought of me. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. Sheppard: "nothing can save me. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly.
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