I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. "Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs. Paul's are his work. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss.
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