She exited solemnly, retrieving and carrying Michelle’s unconscious figure into the forest like a reluctant bridegroom. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. " As he spoke, a smile crossed Sheppard's countenance. A dissipated, loose-living man. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way.
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