Gentlemen,—Mr. ” “Blood of my heart!” whispered Capes, holding her close to him. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak. In the middle there was a gate. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. I know nothing about this affair, but some one has been burning documents. . Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Mr. " "Stand out of earshot," rejoined his leader.
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