As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. It was so difficult to put precisely. “It sounds too ridiculous. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. He then made off. ’ ‘Because I like you, of course,’ Gerald said promptly. No; she'd never go back. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment.
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