She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. Find that boy. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis.
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