In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. “Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. You are not a coward David, and you must not talk like one. All right really. Balked, Melusine halted. “You poor little girl!” he cried. ” “Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. But calmer thoughts quickly succeeded. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms.
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