We were only—les autres. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. An action which gave Gerald furiously to think. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Sheppard. For awhile he watched the revolving light on Copeley's. “You must tell me the truth, and I will see that no harm comes to you.
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