" The spinsters stared at her blankly. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. Caution forced her to speak calmly. They used to marry us off at seventeen, rush us into things before we had time to protest. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. One hour later she had gone back to the mission—without the salt. Sheppard, hastily; "is that the name?" "Ay, ay, now I look again it is Trenchard.
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