"Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. ‘I told her you couldn’t have been flirting, but she wouldn’t believe me. No— no, it must never be. And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. We felt like thieves. “You may not leave. He's passed through some rough mental torture.
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