Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Wild has done his business. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. I am quite sure though that they did not mean to be rude. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain.
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