"Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. Eggs were procured for her, and she sat out the subsequent emotions and eloquence with the dignity becoming an injured lady of good family. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. When they made love, he seemed to shift into the realm of possessiveness.
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