"Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. ” He crossed his arms. " "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly. " "I can't exactly say, Sir Rowland. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. .
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