This one too she read. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. " "Where did you get it?" inquired Thames. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. Habits and tastes are no longer the same. "Took a great fancy to you. Few men could have done as much. He hanged your first husband.
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