But of what avail is this? You have no execution, no finish. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. " "Very well, Sir," replied Sheppard. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity.
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