" Winifred was going to say "No," but she checked herself; and, with cheeks mantling with blushes, murmured, "I wish you wouldn't tease me about Jack Sheppard. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. But you must see her alone; and that'll be no easy matter to manage, for she's a great invalid, and has generally somebody with her. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland.
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