” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. "Gone," replied the wounded man. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. " "So I find, Captain," rejoined Quilt, submissively; "but you're too noble-hearted to take advantage of my situation. She never even graduated high school, and that has been a thorn in her side ever since. In Hamilton Place that is, like I told you before, miss. ’ ‘Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,’ Gerald said. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. "You want me, then?" she said. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale. A knot of three policemen in conflict with her staggered toward Ann Veronica’s attendants and distracted their attention. . “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me.
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