Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. You are too kind. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. ” “Of course,” said Capes, and threw a newly lit cigar into the fire through sheer nervousness. They telephoned that you had absconded with ten thousand, and that if I would make good the loss within twenty-four hours, they would not prosecute.
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