She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. There was plenty of sweet water. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. ” He was arrested for a moment by an indistinct picture of Veronica reading this last sentence. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. Man's fate is in his own hands. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried.
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