If this is the young lady, she can perhaps calm him. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. Perhaps it was loneliness. . " And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. . In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. . Give me but leave to try. Get on, do. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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