"Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders.
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