CHAPTER XXI. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. "And, does any of our bright blood flow in the veins of a ruffianly housebreaker?" cried Trenchard, with a look of bewilderment. The new-comer looked at Charcam. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. After a brief conversation, which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveliness, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few words of common-place gallantry to her. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. He waved a cordial goodbye. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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