The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. "You've hit it," answered Sheppard. They heard voices inside but stood for a full thirty seconds looking at each other. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. "Here's one of the thieves, Sir Rowland!" cried the attendant. He was sickeningly aroused by their hands as he slipped in and out of consciousness.
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