How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. “I am in love with you. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. "Your sympathy is being wasted. I chose you for your strength, your cunning, your intelligence, your great beauty. ” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A.
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