"I was," answered Sheppard. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. Suspicion was in his face. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. His assistance came too late. \"No, what?\" She said. Only I’m so incensed with that crazy fool Gerald that—oh, well, never mind. Indeed I must.
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