since the beginning. Another long interval elapsed. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. There were two sisters, you know. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. Do you understand?” “I do not,” he answered. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. \" His tone was weak and conciliatory. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Their eyes met, and his expressed perplexity and curiosity. ” She looked up at him, and found he was watching her closely.
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