She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. "Rachel," said Mr. He was vaguely uneasy; he knew not what about. . “No, I am alone,” she answered. Dim souls flitted about her, not only speaking but it would seem even thinking in undertones. ‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it. "Sit beside me," continued Mrs. ” “Yes, yes. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. .
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