That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. Vorsack would just have to live with it. ” Mr. ‘It did not seem to me that it was so. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was.
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