When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. . She went about, intentlooking and self-possessed, trim and fine, concealing her emotions whatever they were, as the realities of her position opened out before her. But it must have been something that could show her to be Mary’s daughter. . Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. She led him up the long hall solemnly. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally.
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