No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. “I hope that you are going to allow me to see something of you during your stay in London, for the sake of old times. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. CHAPTER XXIII. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. How much Mary knew is a mystery. Sheppard. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully.
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