The place was crowded, and the people about her were almost equally made up of very goodlooking and enthusiastic young people and a great variety of Goopes-like types. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. There was a flash and a loud report. I don’t play anything. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. . . " Jonathan made no answer, but snatching a torch from a bystander, jumped into the trench and commenced a diligent search.
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