” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. I bring you tidings of an old friend. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice. " "And what—what was your answer?" demanded the widow, eagerly. All the rest of our lives would be together then, Ann Veronica. His food lay untouched about his plate. He still watched her and questioned her. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. . Charming girl. III.
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