“The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. This is a mere boy. This whole affair is truly my fault. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. The policy of this step was immediately apparent. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them.
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