It's only a gentleman come to offer you his hand. But her request was unheeded. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. CHAPTER XXIII. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. He would have some sport with Mr.
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