May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. . Something in his tone pinched her heart. She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR.
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