“I never dreamt!” she said. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce. "I see nothing surprising in it," rejoined Jonathan. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. " "It came from Lady Trafford's jewel-box. You see to what it has brought you.
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