‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. Tell me, Sir," she added, with forced calmness, and grasping Wood's arm; "what has Jack done? Tell me in a word, that I may know the worst. There it is—against you. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. ’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony.
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