“You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. The door leaned inward. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. “So she must have had you fairly young, right?” Lucy nodded again. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. ‘Sapristi. ” TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Typesetting and editing of the original book from which this e-text has been transcribed was inconsistent. Just. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. He looked distant, irritated. “Like him who stood on Darien I view uncharted sea Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights Before my Queen and me.
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