In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. . . But Sheppard answered for him. “I want you so much, Lucy. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. Sheppard, struggling to get free. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow.
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