" "Mr. ” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom.
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