She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. "Another time," replied the thief-taker, evasively. Earles would permit. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife.
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