Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. Well, let him be honest. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. “My God!” he said again. “I knew Mr. 1. If you ride out there, and the place is well worth a visit, for the magnificent view it commands of some of the finest country in the neighbourhood of London,—you are certain to meet with him. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night.
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