I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. ‘I know her, ma’am, but I know next to nothing of her story. "We'll see," returned the thief-taker. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. No gentleman was ever called Thames, and Darrell is a gentleman, unless the whole story of his being found in the river is a fabrication!" "My dear, you forget—" "No, Mr.
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