"He who stands on the verge of the grave, as I do, should never be unprepared. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. ‘I ain’t done nothing wrong, I swear it. ’ Lucilla gaped. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. He seemed to be about to move toward her. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone.
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