You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. “You’re a biologist, aren’t you?” He began to talk of his own impressions of biology as a commonplace magazine reader who had to get what he could from the monthly reviews, and was glad to meet with any information from nearer the fountainhead. " "I know it," replied Sheppard, "and therefore I spare your life. He declined supper, but took wine. Come home alone. ’ The smile vanished.
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