"Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. " "Never," echoed Smith, emphatically, "upon my honour. She had even played in an opera by Verdi once, but had to dress as a boy to do it. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. There was another little thing he had to say. ” “Above all, no one except I can know what you are.
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