Wood's. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. I'll lay my life he's gone. . ’ ‘Don’t be stuffy, Hilary,’ admonished his betrothed. Scarcely any one entered Mr. She looked up quickly. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. A hansom stopped a little way off. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again.
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