The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated. 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. Sheppard returned no answer. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard. His two wives have been here. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives.
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