THAMES DARRELL. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. “I’ve got it. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. I hate children. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened.
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