CHAPTER IV. It was her distinctive test of an emotional state, its interference with a kindly normal digestion. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. “This isn’t a world for an innocent girl to walk about in. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. "The gen'l'man'll be here directly. " "I see.
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