But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. A dissipated, loose-living man. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. " "No fear of that," laughed Kneebone. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. Sheppard, anxiously. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.
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