The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. 8. He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. “Quite on my own,” she said. I worshipped her and subdued myself.
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