He handed Ruth a letter. He would teach her all he knew of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she would be able to defend herself. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. "Not that I know of," replied the carpenter, who had in some degree recovered his confidence. ‘I cannot possibly shoot a lady, you know. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. ‘And if he is dead I know not. You must tell me what it all means.
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