"Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. Water sprung from the corners of the school roof, turning it into a gigantic fountain. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. In short, every contrivance that ingenuity could devise was resorted to by this horde of reprobates to secure themselves from danger or molestation. She elected to go to prison. Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust.
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