Forgive me?” She pleaded. She told the porter to take it to the booking-office, and it was only after a disconcerting moment or so that she found she ought to have directed him to go to the cloak-room. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. “Of course I mean, who was she?” “I believe that her name was Pellissier,” Ennison answered.
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