" In spite of her displeasure, Winifred could not help smiling at the absurdity of this address. "Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this fine night," observed Ben. He couldn't have taken Mr. ‘What else was there to do? He paid off the servants and left old Pottiswick in charge, saying that the place would have to remain empty until the heir was found. He breathed a little sigh of satisfaction. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. . “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. ‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good.
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