Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. How came you to know it? Have you heard the name before?" "I think I have—long, long ago, when I was a child," replied Mrs. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey.
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