On the way home he was still thoughtful. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. Has he not himself taken my daggers and my pistol and my knife? Alors, he has given me back my pistol and one dagger,’ she conceded conscientiously, ‘which is a very good thing. Footman or some such. I know. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him.
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