" "My coat, please. She cried out his name in ecstasy. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. " The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. Cathy gave her a bear hug and patted her severe 252 hairdo. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism.
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