Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. She turned back into the hall. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. " The foregoing conversation, having been conducted throughout in a low tone, and apart, had not reached the ears of Mr. Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. She reached for the door handle.
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