When he had broken up this scenery, weary of its tinsel, there would come to his mind the bright picture of Marseille, of sunny trellises, and of Mercedes. We had not forgotten our morals. Had it been any terrible crime but that one sin! Had it been murder! Little fiery flakes fell and touched him at all points, shameful thoughts, shameful words, shameful acts. Temple turned back to Stephen and asked: --Do you believe in the law of heredity? --Are you drunk or what are you or what are you trying to say? asked Cranly, facing round on him with an expression of wonder.