E. I shall quit this roof to-morrow. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. He must know she’ll be at a convent. Won't you, Jack?" "That I will," answered Sheppard, eagerly. Only I’m so incensed with that crazy fool Gerald that—oh, well, never mind. Besides, he was a Yale man. Or else he was indeed obsessed. His literary instincts were reviving. They could not go on. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. Fas du tout. Miss Ellicot, for instance, considers me a most improper person. CHAPTER XXVII.
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