" "To-morrow will be too late," said Sheppard, moodily. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. . I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. " To-morrow! She never beheld it. ‘You could have fetched me home. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding.
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