” “No doubt. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. ’ ‘Why should I?’ ‘Because I can’t live without you!’ ‘That is your own affair, and—’ Melusine broke off, staring at him, shocked realisation kicking in her gut. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the subject. A creeping numbness invaded her. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. " "Mr. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted.
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