He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. “Is it your maid?” he asked. Now you can understand why I have been obliged to——” “Yes, yes, I understand that,” Courtlaw interrupted. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. Turning now, and running down the terrace. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. I think that there is no better friend for a girl than a man rather older than herself. ” His voice assumed an easy detached tone.
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