“Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. " "That is your fault, none of mine. I bored him. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. And so is your companion,—the convict Sheppard. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. "I am Owen Wood, at your service.
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