Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. " "Thames!" "You seem to doubt my love," he continued,—"you seem to think that change of circumstances may produce some change in my affections. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk.
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