In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. ” She took his hand, interrupting him. He shuddered. The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. He smiled. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. \" His brown eyes were tired and full of concern. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. She wanted to be on with the show.
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