Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. Then she burst into a peal of laughter. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation. “Only—I have come face to face—with something terrible, and wholly unexpected trouble. I shall know what to say to him when he comes. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror.
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