” He drew a little nearer to her. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot. B. ‘Precisely. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. “Mrs. " "Mr. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. ‘Not in the open street. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. . “I have been very selfish,” she declared.
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