” She replied. “Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?” “I am afraid that I must confess it,” he answered. Little more’n a week. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. ” “I told them a lie.
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