e are raising a nation of brain-cultured ress, Im afraid to say, is part of a ure of our race, Mr Rivers, I may tell you noart of t recent bout of insanity? Could t—or  ouc for t . I noted, too, t she wears no marriage ring.

    Ricarts into life at tends to dra. tune favours villains.

    is,  t

    it from  noes at  imagine tions t produced, sir, in my breast. s o s  it. to t, a pallet of straw—! s enoug h his own roguery.

    A cor. But o sural fancy—

    Unnatural? says Ricrange. A knoo keep it from you. I feel no.

    Indeed? says tor. ther pauses, his pencil raised.

    Rics  once I knourn my face to . he speaks, before I can.

    Susan, o feel sress. You need feel none,  attaco you. You did noto invite or encourage ttentions my empted to force on you—

    es at ors stare, turn to gaze at me.

    Miss Smit, leaning closer, is true?

    I t as s be noisfied to rayed me, glad to suppose  to return at last to  down, You pearl. . .

    Miss Smith?

    I o weep.

    Surely, says Rico me, putting ears speak for to name t o reful poses—to ed  lemen?

    Of course, says tor quickly, moving back. Of course. Miss Smit. You need not fear for your safety, no fear for ty of your mistress.  yours. tand—a case sucreatment may hy one . . .?

    t papers, and look for a surface on  t. Ricable of brus c, but ogeto saircase t beside tands in to they drive off.

    teps to me and tosses to my lap. oget capers.

    You devil, I say,  pa