Her heartbeat quickened. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her temples. . He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. ‘Do you think it is the man in the moon that I mean? What is it that Gérard has told you?’ ‘That you need help. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. It made her hungry. She felt his crotch through his jeans.
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