" Mr. ” She smiled at the thought. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. People, nobody, can do as they like in this world. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. You have all the earmarks of a fugitive from justice. “I doubted my luck, at least. ’ ‘But it is stupide.
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