Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. Her faith in human beings revived. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. \" She sat down on a nearby bench. Mr. ” “But it is too late,” she declared. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. F.
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