She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl (who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was profoundly sad. He had buckled on his hanger, and had two brace of pistols in his belt, as well as others in this holsters. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. “My only answer would be to ask you to look at that mirror and then at the poster. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away.
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