. ’ ‘Oui, mais—safe. " Ten minutes later, the doctor, having marshalled all his facts chronologically, began his tale. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. God send the fellow did turn out to be a spy! Beckoning Roding on, Gerald crept down the corridor towards the source of the swishing he had heard. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do.
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