" As Jack made no reply, the woman proceeded. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. . Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No.
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