She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment. She met him by the dugout after the game. Sepulchre's. Cathy appeared in her bathrobe. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. He squinted and a disgusted look came over him. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. You wouldn't rob Mr. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. Sheppard staggered forward.
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