" "But I was intoxicated!" "So was the man you just fought in this room. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction trembled upon her tongue. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. ’ ‘Because you are a pig!’ retorted Melusine hotly. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind.
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