Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. “It was poison—why not?” she answered.
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