"Why were you afraid to show me this picture, Winny?" asked the youth. " "How so?" asked Thames. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. And then her pace slackened. Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his side. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. It was neither good nor bad. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages.
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