" "Stand out of earshot," rejoined his leader. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. I'll be with you in a jiffy. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. She ignored his question. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them.
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