“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. Even if you were sick in the mind and did not understand what you were doing, it's a mighty cruel thing you have done. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. ” Capes suddenly abandoned his attitude of meditative restraint.
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