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She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. ‘Damnation! Too late. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. Good heavens! She was discussing love-making. Gregory B. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. “It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head.
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