1. Lots of us are like that. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. 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. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse.
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