She must kill this man, or kill herself. "You soon shall," rejoined Sheppard. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. Mr. ’ Melusine blinked at this competence. Ah, Thierry and Poussaint, if my memory serves me. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Sheppard, with a frenzied laugh.
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