“Rather darker than most of them. Wild!" demanded Trenchard, as if he had formed a sudden resolution. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. "Your detective has been remiss in his duty; let him suffer for it. . That blow made me a thief. Until that was done a certain experience of life assured him that a girl is a locked coldness against a man’s approach. “I wonder how it is,” she exclaimed, “that my friends have so much more confidence in me than I have in myself. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers.
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