Sheppard did not dare to return any answer; but, disengaging herself from his embrace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request. Here it is. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. “Why?” “I still love you. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile.
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