‘Move, you. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard. "Bravo," cried Sheppard, examining its contents, which proved to be a file, a chisel, two or three gimblets, and a piercer. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. "You mustn't talk any more; the excitement isn't good for you. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return.
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