’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. 1. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. Sheppard. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. It was then that the young man entered his thought with some permanency: because there was no apparent reason for his joining the tour, since from the beginning he had shown no interest in anything. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. .
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