’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. “I never dreamt!” she said. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. She hoped desperately that Mrs. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. He could not quite make her out; a new type. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. ’ ‘Think Valade will come back here then?’ ‘Melusine thinks so,’ Gerald said, pausing at the top of the stairs.
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