The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “I’m fine,” she said softly. Earles said persuasively. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. Hitchings, who seem to be absolutely engrossed in one another, and a boy of about seventeen, who no sooner got here than he discovered that he wanted to see a man in the promenade and disappeared. But go on. “Thanks, so do you.
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