“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. ” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. Sheppard, anxiously. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. He was still thickly clad in jeans. 196 Succeeded where she had not.
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