"No—Sheppard?" rejoined Wild. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. He had forgiven everybody. She is no longer mine; she is yours. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. He rested his brow on his hand and conveyed magnificent tragedy by his pose. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you.
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