" "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. Sheppard prepared for church. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too.
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