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She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. She glanced into his face. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. He smiled complacently. He classified her as he seated himself. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. “A joke! Sir John, if you had presented yourself here an hour ago we should have greeted you in pained silence.
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