"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. After him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. ” Capes waited patiently. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. And in some incomprehensible way, Ramage was confused with Capes; she had a grotesque disposition to persuade herself that this was really Capes who surrounded her, as it were, with wings of desire. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill.
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