"Good bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his mistresses, "to-morrow, at the same time. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. My people don’t know what to do. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment. Both of them. To disillusion her, forthwith. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall.
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