This whole affair is truly my fault. Sydney was watching her eagerly. When younger, and in better health, she must have been eminently lovely; and there were still the remains of great beauty about her. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. If I were Mr.
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