Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. She will not confide in me. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. Ruth met him in the hall as he was following his family into the dining room. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. "But you are tired!" "I want to go over the story again. “What ought you to do?” He began to produce his knowledge of the world for her benefit, jerkily and allusively, and with a strong, rank flavor of “savoir faire.
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