" "Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine. “I went to Anna’s rooms because I felt that I must see her. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars.
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