If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. By the will of Mr. To-night we leave for Marseilles. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. A couple of gilt straight-backed chairs only. At any rate, he began to deliberately personate him. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. " "To make him forget the knock?" "Precisely. "There's the exact expression I want.
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