Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. "One of you fly to the market," returned Jonathan; "another to the river; a third to the New Mint. ‘To see Charvill. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. He seemed to deliberate. She felt that there was a hidden meaning under his words. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. Ascertaining that it was Sheppard of whom this concourse was in pursuit, the two horsemen leapt the hedge, and were presently close upon him.
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