“Dear me!” he said. "No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. . ” Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her.
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