" "Thank'ee, Sir," grinned Sheppard. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. He was helpful, but gravely dubious. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. “I certainly knew him no better than you.
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