Sheppard, hastily; "is that the name?" "Ay, ay, now I look again it is Trenchard. The young man had knocked over the siphon. He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. Sheppard, with a deep sigh, perceiving that her benefactor hesitated to pronounce the word. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece. ’ He gave the gaping Pottiswick a shove, passing him on to his junior, who was waiting patiently by the kitchen door. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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