"Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. "I am so excessively fond of snuff. He'll settle it bravely. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. “I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared.
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