The other lay unconscious in a heap. She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. "And now, farewell, Mr. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. "She wouldn't let me go. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. CHAPTER XIX.
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