” “I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in store for you. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. " "Never," replied Sheppard bitterly. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. And you don’t know what led to our separation. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that.
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