The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. Sheppard, so that if the blow had been stricken she must have received it. For yonder went the loneliest man in all God's unhappy world. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough. And the age gets higher. ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say. . Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone.
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