At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. ” A little sobbing cry from Annabel arrested Sir John’s attention. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. A fever of shame ran through her being. Her hair was washed for her also. . ‘I hope I do not understand you. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance.
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