"You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod. If only one might open the shutters and let in the light. " "Take it back yourself," retorted Jack, sullenly. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. “I love you. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph.
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