” “Damn!” he remarked at the defaced letter; and, taking a fresh sheet, he recopied what he had written. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. ’ The girl nodded understandingly. ’ ‘A pretty tale. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. " "Well, Sir," gasped Mrs. Anna leaned back with half closed eyes. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles.
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