on. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. Her unnatural calm was giving way. . . "You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace.
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