She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. “As she asked!” “It is already too late. “Take me back.
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