"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. On the way he confessed. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. She remembered Taber's hat. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. Within forty-eight hours the girl would be on her way east and the boy see-sawing the South China Sea, for ever moving at absolute angles. He had got here at speed by that means. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. ’ Gerald unfolded his arms and threw his hands in the air.
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