I'll lay my life he's gone. Supper was over. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. Surely his calculated desire to sit near her meant that his attention had surely been brought from its normal diversions into her realm. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one.
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