"That's for myself," rejoined Mrs. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. ’ He smiled down at her. You needn’t be in any doubt about it.
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