The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. D. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. " "Only two minutes more, Sir," intreated Edgeworth Bess, advancing towards him in such a manner as to screen Jack, who crept into the farthest part of the angle,—"only two minutes, and we've done. \" He said. ’ ‘Is it, now? Well you won’t, then, for he won’t hear nothing, missie. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion.
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