" "To-morrow will be too late," said Sheppard, moodily. "Does your father doubt it? Speak! tell me!" Winifred made no answer. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. ’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. Though there is something to be said for your idea of a secret convent, at least as a hiding place. She remembered that she had not gone to bed until two o'clock in the morning. She let out a wail.
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