" "Don't worry about that. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. The Supper at Mr. One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. "It is," replied Sheppard. His face was very serious. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. For a time she furnished the flat. Who invented them? Nobody knows. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather.
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