Earles. Sheppard, eagerly. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. I might have told you the truth. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. Occasionally she would be missing a sock or a bra, so she took to storing those things in her gym locker.
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