He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. She was in deadly earnest in everything she did. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. They both listened intently. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. What do you mean by it, eh?’ ‘But I did not send it to you,’ Melusine rejoined instantly. " "What'll it cost to have you all to myself for the day?" Ah Cum named the sum. There was a man, a boy, and a woman. There was a fourth story; but he never told either Ruth or McClintock about this. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening.
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