The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. ” Ennison had things to say, but he looked at her and held his tongue. " "It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. Observe it—a blue-serge coat. "I am. Sheppard, sinking backwards upon the pallet. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed.
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