Huge trees obscured the view of it. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. Sheppard now directed her steps. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. It was a letter.
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