‘Because I’m a female,’ declared Lucilla unanswerably. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. But at the beginning of the affray, when he thought every one was too much occupied with his own concerns to remark his absence, he slipped out of the room, not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he had another object in view. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. ” He intoned. Believe me, Anna.
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