She had often wondered if Hoddy would ever go back to it. "I could," replied Thames. But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. But, you see, she HAS to lie up. White, my landlady, believes his story. " "Is he leaving England?" demanded Thames, in astonishment. She put back her hood in a determined way. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. . But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then.
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