Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. . “I’d have to sneak out after everyone was asleep. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. " "Aye," said McClintock, in a tone so peculiar that it sent Spurlock's glance to his plate. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt. . ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured.
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