CHAPTER VIII. “It isn’t quite that we’re toys. Sheppard. ’ ‘Addlepated imbecile, Hilary,’ corrected Gerald calmly. But I will go. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever.
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