“Very,” said Mr. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. There was a hint of tears in her voice. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. Things haven't gone quite as smoothly as I anticipated; but they might have been worse. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently.
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