“Dear me!” he said. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. " "Pshaw!" said Wild. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Sheppard had been interred. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. ‘You can’t go to England. And when she learned that she had been doubly cheated, what then? His thoughts began to fall on her side of the scales, and his own misery grew lighter as he anticipated hers.
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