This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. Melusine came close again, and reached up a finger tentatively to the face depicted there. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. . God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair. " "To-morrow will be too late," said Sheppard, moodily.
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