" "May I trust you?" cried Thames, eagerly. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. " "For mercy's sake go up stairs," implored Sheppard. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. ” “Of course I am. . Good night. Sheppard," said Thames.
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