” She said. Sheppard; "and to-day is Monday. ‘Don’t tell me. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. The others hurried to the window. . Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off.
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