“But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. Sheppard, passionately,—"he has my boundless gratitude, and devotion. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ‘Cover her, men. ” “How could you!” She exclaimed. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect.
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