’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. He was asleep. " "Awake!—to be sure I am, my flash cove," replied Sheppard; "I'm down as a hammer. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. A little love from him would be enough. His face was downcast. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. "Judging from what you tell me, I've no doubt he's the illegitimate offspring of some handsome, but lowborn profligate; in which case, he'll neither have name, nor wealth for his inheritance. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. ” He took them from her and read them.
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