"Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. She jumped up at once, caught up a leather clutch containing notebooks, a fat textbook, and a chocolate-and-yellow-covered pamphlet, and leaped neatly from the carriage, only to discover that the train was slowing down and that she had to traverse the full length of the platform past it again as the result of her precipitation. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity.
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