The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. . ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. A hansom stopped a little way off. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Here her strength completely failed her, and she was compelled to seek some repose. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg.
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