’ ‘Dear me. ’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. Spurling had retired for the night. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. Stanley took the letter and stood with it in his hand thoughtfully for a time. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear.
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