” Miss Stanley turned to her. Hilary made a movement as if he would seize the opportunity to disarm the girl, but Gerald stopped him. He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked his way to it. “Not too bad. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. He bent to her hand, and she slipped off the ring and gave it to him to examine. Her eyes where glassy and shining. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. “Think of what people will say!” That became a refrain.
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